


Tabula Rasa

by Lysistrata (FireFlyAway)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 03 Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFlyAway/pseuds/Lysistrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina is an expert at compartmentalising.  She has perfected the ability to bundle her emotions up and stuff them in places so deep inside they can never hurt her again.  But she has never lost her soul mate before, so she forgives herself for allowing the torrent of fat salty tears and ugly gulping breaths that consume her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabula Rasa

**Author's Note:**

> All the cool kids were doing it…this has been sitting on my computer for ages and I figured I'd better post it before s4 rolled around and killed off my headcanon. This isn't beta'ed so there are going to be errors no matter how many times I've read the bloody thing. ;) This is meant to be multi-chaptered...

Darkness creeps into Regina’s vision, inky purple and thick as tar, as she pushes towards the door of the diner. A cloistering mix of love and celebration hangs ripe on the air, and she is forced to flee lest her emotions choke her.

‘Regina?’ Emma’s voice is small, tentative – realisation and a desperate guilt shine in her eyes. But a fault line is rendering Regina’s heart in two, and she has no words of comfort to give. Ignoring Emma, she grabs her jacket and risks a final glance at Robin. Marian and Roland are gathered in his arms; his face buried in his wife’s hair, serenity is settled over the family like a blanket. Regina’s eyes flick to Henry, snuggled between Snow, baby Neal and Charming. His contentment is obvious.

Family.

Love.

Acceptance.

Looking around she realises she is surrounded by it. Regina see it in the husband and wife sharing a meal, the affectionate squabbling of siblings, Emma’s pirate standing loyal and protective at her side (much like a faithful dog), Granny and Ruby’s good natured bickering. These are things have never been meant for her. She knows this; it’s why any happiness she finds has been like holding sand in her hands.

Villains don’t get happy endings.

And by her own choices and deeds she became the greatest of villains in two realms.

‘Regina.’ She hears Emma call again. ‘Please,’ her expression desperately earnest. ‘I didn’t know. She was in your dungeons. I was trying to do the right thing.’

At that Regina’s eyes slide closed and she exhales heavily. If Marian was in her dungeons then she is the reason Roland was motherless and Robin.... A bitter laugh escapes. Of course. Self-loathing slithers though her belly and wraps around her heart, filling all the places made suddenly empty. It’s tempting to blame Emma for this - the part of her that is wholly the Evil Queen demands that she crush the blonde - injure her as surely and fatally as Regina has been tonight. But the part of her that Robin has nurtured, the part that has light magic, mothered Henry, that has learned to trust, quashes that instinct - realises that she is the author of her own pain.

Still, Regina can’t stop a little of her bitterness leaking out. Turning to Emma, Regina wills her face to remain neutral and her voice steady when she asks, ‘Remind me again, Miss Swan, what exactly were we working so hard to prevent my darling sister from doing?’

In her ignorance and conceit Emma has toyed with the constraints of time. But the sisters who weave the skeins of fates do not suffer mortal interference. It is why no one has ever been able to go back and change the tapestry of life … until Emma. There will likely be consequences, the nature of which Regina cannot possibly fathom.

Emma blanches and leans back into Hook, who wraps his good arm around her holding her firmly against him. ‘You’d sentenced her to death.’

Emma’s pronouncement comes as a lull in conversion washes over the small diner and Regina feels the scrutiny of a room worth of eyes fall on her.

‘Impeccable timing once again,’ Regina hisses at Emma as she sees Marian turn from her family, understanding lighting her features.

‘You’re the Evil Queen?’ Marian demands advancing on Regina until she is so close Regina can see the red flush of anger blooming on her skin. ‘You’re a monster,’ Marian proclaims, poking an accusing finger into Regina’s chest. Robin is immediately behind his wife, a gentling hand on her shoulder, but Marian shrugs it off. Behind Marian, Regina can see Henry and the Charmings turn to watch the unfolding drama.

‘Do you know why Emma brought me here,’ Marian growls, her voice rising in pitch. ‘Do you?’

Regina remains impassive under the other woman’s fury – because she does know. And what can she do but take the vilification for her actions of 30 years past? Penance is what is expected of her.

‘You paraded me through the forests as your prisoner, as a warning against aiding Snow White. For my loyalty to the true monarch you threw me in your dungeons, starved me and beat me. Had Emma not saved me you would have killed me.’ Marian, shaking with rage, turns an accusing eye on the patrons in the diner. ‘Why do you people invite her to warm by your hearth? To enjoy your company and kinship?’

Robin grabs Marian’s hand, pulling her away from Regina and back into his arms. ‘Please, my love,’ he says carefully, ‘we are all different here. We judge people by their actions in this realm not the past; the Queen included.’

Robin’s endearment cuts Regina deeper than any of Marian’s accusations. After all her behaviour is a matter of record. She has killed, injured and humiliated scores in her quest against Snow. Curse aside there isn’t a person in Storybrooke, let alone the diner, who hasn’t been touched by her wrath. But up until five minutes ago, Robin’s love and gentle affection was reserved for her. She alone was the recipient of his calming touch and warm smile – his proclamations of love. To see the things she valued so dearly returned to their first and true owner kills something inside of Regina.

Marian turns to Robin. ‘This woman ran you from your home in Sherwood Forest, set her Black Guard on your men and turned us to fugitives. She has wronged you most grievously, yet you defend her…’

‘Enough.’ Regina growls suddenly and with sufficient authority to stop Marian cold. However good Regina may wish to be, neither her strength nor her grace are unlimited, and she can’t subject herself to anymore of this tonight. Not when her heart is breaking. Without another word Regina shrugs on her jacket and escapes out into the cold night air leaving silence in her wake.

As she steps out onto the sidewalk footsteps echo quickly behind her, light, controlled, with a slightly uneven cadence. A rhythm she’d become intimately familiar with as it fell against the soft carpet of her bedroom floor, the uneven bitumen of the surrounding sidewalks, rough wooden planks that line the docks…

‘Go back inside,’ she says stiffly when the footsteps stop behind her.

‘My wife – Roland’s mother – has just returned from the dead. For her it has been but weeks since we parted, for us it has been a lifetime. This is … without precedent.’

Regina sighs as Robin steps in front of her. There are deep lines furrowing his forehead, and a frown pulling at the corner of his lips. Sky blue eyes that always seem perpetually amused are glassy and dull. In short, Robin looks like a man deeply unsettled. And although it may just kill her, Regina knows in her heart (thought it may be dark and atrophied) what she must do.

Her past behaviour has affected Robin in ways that she knows she’ll never quite comprehend. She will not be the source of his torment now. She will release him of any obligations, absolve him of any pledges.

‘Robin…’ Her voice breaks, and all the heartache she feels catches in her throat, making it impossible to form words.

Robin grabs her hand sliding his fingers between her own lending her his strength and she, knowing it will likely be the last time, lets him. Regina studies their entwined hands - his rough and dark and hers pale and fine - for a long moment.

When she no longer feels like she will choke on her misery, Regina gives him what he needs. ‘You once told me that you’d walk through hell to get Marian back. This is your second chance. You’d be a fool not to grasp it with both hands.’

Robin nods slowly, but he pulls Regina into a tight hug. His arms band around her so tight she can’t draw breath, or, perhaps, breathing is impossible when your heart has ceased to beat.

Robin rests his face in the crook of her neck and she feels him breathing her in. Regina clutches at him tighter.

‘You are, as always, stunning in every way, Milady,’ he whispers.

Carding her hands through his short hair, she pulls back from him and runs her hands down to cup his face, his skin soft and warm under her touch - closing her eyes she reads the lines of his strong jaw and high cheek bones with the pads of her fingers. She smooths them across the twin pillows of his lips, the touch a mere shadow of the kiss she desperately wants to steal from him. Regina opens her eyes and commits all of her senses to the memory of him – his solid, reassuring presence all firm muscle and gentle chivalry; the scent of wintergreen that clings to him like bark newly stripped from a sapling; the sigh of contentment that her touch still draws.

Robin’s shaky exhale is warm and moist against her hands. He looks at her like she is a pure benediction standing here on the cold hard sidewalk, his deliverance and downfall all in one and Regina’s heart breaks anew. He is the only person who has ever looked at her like her existence was cause for gratitude and wonderment. Like she was worth…anything.

Regina has never wrapped her sense of self worth up in the approval of others, but Robin lights places in her soul she imagines are darker than the pits of hell. He is more than she ever thought she’d have and certainly more than she deserves.

Finally she gathers the courage that has so often failed her and steps away, hands falling to her side. She wraps the persona of Mayor, Queen and sorceress around her like an impenetrable cloak.

‘Go back to inside.’ Her voice is deliberately hard. It is cruel to both of them, but what else can be done? Marian is Robin’s wife. His first (if not true) love and mother of his child. He is pledged to her until death, and Marian is very much alive. And Regina knows that, above all else, Robin is a man of his word.

Unable to endure the sight of Robin walking away from her, Regina turns from him first and makes the quick walk to her car – unlocking it she climbs into the front seat. A profound sense of fatalism washes over her, and she curses herself a fool for believing she could have love. She knows better than to let such hope into her heart, because if history has taught her nothing it is that she always ends up alone. But this, this is not nearly that simple - the man that fate chose for her has renounced her for another woman.

A life full of endless loneliness, without kindness or freely given affection or love, _a life without Robin_ , stretches out in front of her and she can’t hold back the sob that breaks free.

Regina is an expert at compartmentalising. She has perfected the ability to bundle her emotions up and stuff them in places so deep inside they can never hurt her again. But she has never lost her soul mate before, so she forgives herself for allowing the torrent of fat salty tears and ugly gulping breaths that consume her.

Eventually the tears cease and her lungs no longer burn. And, finally, focusing inwards, Regina takes all of tonight’s hurt and pain and misery, and twisting it into a tight ball, she buries it where it cannot touch her.

_I am not delicate._

_I am not easily broken_ , she reminds herself.

 _I am a Queen_.

Regina starts her car and pulls away from the curb. Robin is a cautionary tale, she tells herself as she wipes the remnants of her tears away. He reminds her that her fate from the Enchanted Forest still binds to her. Even here in a different time and a different realm it shapes her fortunes.

And she would do well to remember that.

 *************

Life returns to what it was before Robin…

Regina doesn’t hide herself away or shirk her duties or impose herself on her son. She doesn’t break all her dishes – they’re Wedgewood, after all – or immolate things through the sheer force of her wrath. She does take care when applying her makeup, dons dark silk under starkly structured suits and has her hair trimmed, short and professional. Flirty dresses and pastel lipsticks are placed out of sight.

Pain is not a novel sensation to Regina; it is her old friend. In her many years she has been an abused daughter, a mourning lover, a neglected wife, a hated Queen, a rejected mother and deposed Mayor. But she has never been a victim.

She is not delicate

She is not easily broken

She tells herself this every time she thinks about what might have been and ignores the cold, heavy weight that resides in her chest.

She gets on with the business of living – such as it is.

*************

It was bound to happen, in a town as small as Storybrooke.

Regina supposes she’s been lucky to avoid witnessing the Locksley family domesticity for the last month.

She is sitting opposite Henry in a booth at the back of the diner, listening to stories of New York and about to take her first sip of coffee, when Robin and his family enter. Roland skips up to the counter and climbs onto a stool, shaking off snow flakes as he goes. Robin and Marian follow closely behind. They are wrapped up in each other; Marian’s arm buried beneath Robin’s jacket, his arm around her. She would say it is in deference to the unseasonably cold weather but their body language screams of familiarity, intimacy and possession.

Regina feels her posture stiffen and she carefully places her cup in its saucer before Henry can see her hand shake.

Regina doesn’t watch as Robin drags his son away from counter and the family seats themselves a table just down from her, but she hears them start a spirited discussion on the merits of savoury versus sweet breakfasts. Regina remains wholly focused on Henry, but she knows the moment Robin sees her. Can feel the weight of his gaze settle on her. She looks up in time to see the smile fall from his face.

Regina offers him a polite but distant nod of acknowledgement. She is fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

But rather than placate him Robin looks stricken, lost.

Marian looks up, following her husband’s gaze, and her eyes land on Regina, hot and accusing. Regina holds the woman’s glare until finally Marian looks away. Regina is well aware that in a different place and time she wronged Marian, but she’s unaccustomed to dealing with people so bold in their anger. Marian turns to Robin and a quiet but furious conversion ensues.

Regina looks over at Henry and the empty plate in front of him.

‘You ready to go, dear?’ She asks her son, punctuating the question with what she hopes is her most brilliant smile. Henry wipes his mouth with a napkin and grins up at her unabashedly sweet, and her heart lightens a little.

‘Can I drive home?’ he asks cheekily. He’s too young, as he knows full well, and driving in this weather is hazardous enough for an experienced driver, but it hasn’t stopped Charming from teaching him.

They gather their belongings and slide out of the booth. Regina considers as she opens her purse and drops a generous amount of cash on the table for Ruby. ‘Only if there isn’t any ice on the roads,’ she allows as she pulls on her coat.

Henry fist pumps the air. ‘Yes,’ he enthuses and, as he turns in a little victory dance, he sees the Locksleys for the first time. The smile falls from his face and he turns back to Regina and reaches for her hand in silent support.

It’s a sweet gesture but it just makes Regina aware of the way the eyes of the patrons skip between her and Robin. Makes her aware of how her heartbreak is the latest and most juicy morsel of town gossip. Makes her aware that in this scenario she is the one that was broken and cast off.

As she walks out of the diner, Henry like a sentinel at her side, Regina feels the weight of every single choice she’s ever made.

 

You’re allowed to be sad, Mom.’ Henry says carefully as they drive back home (Regina’s behind the wheel – the roads are just too dangerous for a novice).  
She doesn’t know how to respond to that, so she settles for, ‘I know, dear.’

‘Tinkerbell says that Robin is your soul mate,’ he turns to look out the window, affording her a little privacy – knowing as he does, that she hates talking about matters of the heart. Regina feels a sharp stab of love for her son.

‘That means you’ll always find a way back to each other. You’ll get your happy ending,’ Henry clarifies.

Regina suppresses a heavy sighs. This is what living with the Charming family has done to him; endless optimism and unrealistic expectations about life. Regina knows it is an important counter-balance to her more pragmatic life approach but she can’t help the irritation she feels at their obvious influence over him.

‘Henry,’ she says gently, ‘Robin loves Marian. He wants to be with her. He wants Roland to have his mother. That’s the happy ending to this story.’

‘What about you?’ Henry asks quietly. ‘What’s your happy ending if …’ Thankfully he stops short of verbalising the thought.

Unfortunately, it’s the very same that sneaks upon her and catches her unawares at the most inconvenient of times. It’s a morose thought and one she doesn’t feel like discussing with her son, so she offers, ‘If I’m lucky. If I work hard, then my happy ending is redemption,’ she says softly. ‘I earn forgiveness.’ Regina feels tears burning the back of her eyes because she knows those things are long-term goals for her. Things that might never be realised.

Henry shakes his head and turns to face her, ‘I want more for you than that. Don’t you? Tinkerbell says Robin is who you’re meant to be with.’ Frustration colours his voice.

‘Tinkerbell shouldn’t be talking about me,’ she growls feeling a creeping mortification at the possibility the fairy’s been running around town telling everyone about how the Evil Queen’s soul mate dumped her.

‘She’s not, Mom. When the curse broke I wanted to make sure Robin was good enough for you. I asked around. Tinkerbell and I got talking and she told me that I didn’t need to worry – that this was your second chance; that Robin was your soul mate.’ Henry gives her a searching look. ‘What did she mean by that?’

Regina pulls into her driveway and brings the car to a stop. She leaves the engine running and the seat-warmers on while she thinks carefully about how to respond to that (other than pulling the wings off meddlesome fairies). But Henry deserves the truth. So, she draws a deep breath and shows her son the depth of her cowardice.

‘A long time ago – back in the Enchanted Forest - I was given the opportunity to be with Robin, to change my fate and choose a different life. I didn’t take it. I was too scared, too angry, too willing to sacrifice love for hatred. Soul mate or not, I forfeited my chance to have a life with Robin a long time ago.’

‘But you made a mistake. Everyone deserves a second chance.’

‘Perhaps,’ she allows, because in her experience some people are forgiven for their mistakes no matter how terrible - while others are not.

‘You’re meant to be’, Henry says with the absolute confidence that comes with youth, ‘you’ll find a way back to each other.’

‘Honey, your soul mate is the person that you have the best chance of true happiness with. It doesn’t mean you’re destined to be with them. Most people never find their soul mate and they manage just fine. They still live full and happy lives. I don’t want you to worry about me, Henry, it’ll be ok.’

Henry studies her for a moment, assessing her. Finally he just shakes his head sadly. Grabbing his bag he leaves her alone in the front seat of her car.

************

Ever since their talk, her son has been watching her carefully, trying to include her in family events and forcing her to socialise. It’s why Regina’s sitting opposite the Charmings, Emma, and her pirate, sharing an evening meal. The twin shadows of her sister’s death and Robin’s abrupt return to Marian appear to have spawned a profoundly uncomfortable tension around the table.

Or perhaps the Charmings aren’t particularly confortable breaking bread with a 300 year-old pirate and an Evil Queen their daughter screwed over?

Either way the tension is wearing Regina down - makes her want to snap and bite - and it is only Henry, seated at her side, that anchors her to this farce.

Henry’s spending the week with Emma, so thankfully any uncomfortably silence is warded off by Henry’s relentless excitement over a day spent sailing with Captain Hook. Regina tries to let the comforting lilt of her son’s voice dull the sharpness of her irritation.

Finally, as the dinner draws to a close and plates are cleared, the moment she knows everyone has been waiting for (and she’s been dreading) occurs. Henry leaves the table and bounds upstairs to play the x-box.

The moment the door closes behind him Snow places a cup of hot chocolate in front of her. ‘How are you going, Regina?’

While she and her (ex) step-daughter have started to forgive each other, perhaps even understand each other, there is too much history for it to ever be simple or easy between them. So when Snow gives her a loaded look, it immediately raises Regina’s hackles; makes her wary of Snow’s kindness and makes wonder what outrage the moral arbiter of Storybrooke intends to charge her with.

‘I’m fine,’ she offers with enough bite to stop any additional meddling.

‘Regina’, David, who could never take a hint, offers, ‘we’re family. You can talk to us, you know.’

Snow give her husband an approving smile and adds, ‘That’s what family does.

‘Oh god,’ Regina mummers reaching under the table for her bag. This is not a conversation they are going to have, ever. ‘Henry,’ Regina calls, as she stands to grab her coat and scarf. ‘Dear, I’m leaving.’

Emma rises from the table, ‘We just want to make sure you’re ok.’

Good intentions or not, ganging up on Regina is never a smart move. It brings out the animal in her – she tends to bites first and ask questions later. So she’s not shocked when she all but hisses at Emma like a cornered cobra, ‘You’re kidding me right?’

Hook, who has been circling Emma like a small planet all night, takes her hand in his, as Emma announces, ‘It was the right thing to do, Regina. I’m sorry it had consequences for you, but I’d do it again.’

David and Mary-Margaret look on with approving looks and Regina suppresses an eye roll.

‘Yes, Ms Swan, you’re so very noble. I wonder if anyone’s feelings would be different if your skin were green,’ she says sweetly.

The Charmings are so very good at ignoring facts when it suits them, of twisting situations to ensure their precious principles remain intact no matter what. They never kill until it’s for the greater good, they never use black magic until it suits their purpose, they always obey the law until they have to break it; the Charmings have always been equal parts high ideas and excuses. Their comfort comes from a life lived in absolutes, but Regina has been swimming in the grey murky waters of uncertainty for most of her life. Everyone had a collective apoplexy when Zelena decided to go back in time and change her fate – a butterfly flaps its wings in China, and who knows what the resulting wind-storm could do? But when a swan flaps its wings the consequences are, strangely, palatable.

Mary-Margaret fusses with the linen napkin before she looks at Regina with a strange mixture of sympathy and accusation, ‘Marian came to see me the other day.’ She confesses, ‘she’s worried about Robin.’

‘Isn’t the bug Storybrooke’s resident marriage counsellor?’ The ice in Regina’s voice could freeze the room, but Mary-Margaret ventures on.

‘I know this isn’t an easy situation, but they’re a family. You need to leave him alone.’

Regina starts to pace, focusing on working off the dark energy that is building in her. Experience has taught her that Bad Things happen to people when her magic and emotions mix…curses, spontaneous immolation, transmogrification. All of which would be very difficult to explain to Henry, should they occur to his grandmother.

‘Not that I need to explain myself to you,’ Regina says as calmly as possible, ‘but I’ve done nothing but be alone since your daughter chose to firebomb my life.’

‘Emma saved Marian from certain death’ Snow says gently,‘…at your hands.

Regina gives her a hard stare. ‘Saved a life, changed a fate – it’s the same thing in this case. And I have left him alone. Despite what you may choose to think, I made a promise to my son that I would try to be a better person. Even with my atrophied sense of honour I realise destroying a happy family would be breaking that promise.’

‘I wish I could believe you, Regina.’

Regina gives a bitter laugh. ‘No you don’t.’

‘That’s not true,’ Snow says with painful sincerity.

‘She’s has stayed away from him,’ Henry announces, from the top of the stairs. ‘She’s stayed away from the one person she should never have been separated from because it’s the right thing to do.’

All eyes to turn to Henry, who has emerged from the room and obviously caught some, if not all, of the conversation.

‘Henry,’ Regina implores, ‘go back into the room, dear.’ The absolute last thing she wants is for him to be involved in this, to be exposed to more conflict between her and the rest of his family. And, if she’s honest with herself, she doesn’t want to know the extent of his loyalty to her – before the second curse it had been stretched thin, brittle and broken.

But Henry is a child that has always known his own mind and refuses to be moved. ‘No Mom, they don’t understand. They don’t know who Robin is. They don’t realise that you’re a hero now, and that you’re trying to do the right thing.’

Regina’s heart clenches in her chest at her son’s unexpected attempt to defend her.

‘Wait, what do you mean we don’t know who he is,’ Emma asks making her way to the bottom of the stairs so she can talk to Henry without yelling across the room.

Henry looks down at Regina, and she can see the exact moment he decides to spill her secret. She braces herself.

‘Robin is Mom’s soul mate.’

Shocked silence reigns for a long moment before David asks, ‘Is this true.’ All eyes are on her, probing and tense. Tense because she knows the premium this family places on things like soul mates and true love.

Regina tries to shut everyone up with the sheer force of her glare -

‘Regina, is this true,’ Emma demands.

\- it doesn’t work.

‘Tinkerbell told me,’ Henry announces, just to clear up any doubt on the matter.

‘Is that why you were going to kill Marian in the Enchanted Forest. So you two could be together,’ Emma asks angrily.

‘No,’ Regina says horrified, empathically, hoping her son believes her – hoping they’ll all believe her. ‘I had no idea who she was. She was just collateral damage in my quest against Snow. I didn’t know.’ Regina looks up at Henry. ‘I didn’t know,’ she pleads for him to believe her.

‘But with her out of the way you got your chance with Robin,’ Hook pipes in.

‘That’s not how it happened,’ Henry says fiercely, pushing past Emma to stand by Regina’s side. ‘Mom said that isn’t true.’

Regina scrunches her nose, because it occurs to her what a truly awful thought that really is. Because if that is the case, she isn’t just the author of her own fate - all of this unhappiness, all this death and destruction tracks directly back to her. To the day she failed to walk into the tavern. Regina has always believed that she simply forfeited a life with Robin that day. But what if they’re right? What if the one time she was given a choice, the one time she held her fate in her own hands she chose the dark path that led to this version of history? What if Cora and Rumpelstiltskin had nothing to do with it.

So many innocent lives ruined … because of her.

It’s too much for her to bear.

‘I’m not discussing any of this with you.’ Regina looks around at the people gathered – they’re family, but by circumstance, not choice. With the exception of Henry, those people are camping out in the forest tonight.

‘Soul mate or not, the fact remains that Robin and Marian are together and you have respect that,’ Snow declares.

‘The same way you respected David and Katherine’s relationship?’

‘That was different,’ David says jumping to his wife’s defence.

Regina swallows the lump collecting in her throat. It always is.

Turning into Henry, Regina hugs him close. ‘I’ll see you on Tuesday.’ After a moment she brushes a soft kiss to his forehead and releases him.

Henry looks at her. ‘I’m sorry I told them, but they needed to know. You’re allowed to be sad when someone important in your life leaves.’

She gives him a small smile and whispers, ‘Thank you for being such a good son’.

‘Love you,’ he offers before he runs back upstairs, the door shutting behind him.

Regina takes a deep breath and exhales slowly trying to centre herself. ‘Thank you for dinner,’ she says as she reaches for the door. ‘You’ll forgive me for declining any future invitations.’

‘We just want what’s best for everyone, Regina,’ Mary-Margaret says sadly as Regina goes to leave.

It’s the final straw.

Regina turns to her step-daughter and, arms spread wide, says carefully, ‘You’re not interested in Marian’s happiness, or Robin’s, or mine. You want what’s best for you. Because despite all your talk about me being a hero, despite the fact that I defeated my sister with white magic and broke the second curse, you need me dark.’

‘That’s not true,’ David protests.

Regina squares her shoulders, ‘I beg to differ.’ 

***********

Post Charmings, Regina feels overcome with recklessness and an overwhelming need to escape. The conversation at the loft rolls around her head and self-loathing runs like acid through her veins.

It’s a dangerous, destructive combination that carries her feet to the Rabbit Hole.

For old time’s sake she orders a whisky, straight up.

No chaser.

The bartender holds up a bottle with a raised brow and Regina shrugs indifferently at the 12 year-old blend. She’s where the townies go to drown their sorrows; she’s lucky they’ve more to offer than beer on tap.

Taking her glass, Regina settles into a corner and attempts to melt into the darkness. Nobody will dare bother her here; amongst the drunks and criminal elite of her fair town Regina is by far the most dangerous creature.

Sipping at the amber liquid, she closes her eyes and embraces the burn. The heat of the alcohol has just unfurled in her belly when she feels her universe shift. It was once a familiar feeling, so she isn’t surprised when she hears Robin ask, ‘May I join you?’

She inclines her head in acquiescence but keeps her eyes closed. Not sure she is strong enough to look at him. She hears metal scrape against the wooden floor as he pulls up a chair and settles in.

‘It’s a trite thing to ask,’ he says tentatively, ‘given everything between us, but I need to know how you are. It keeps me awake at night – worrying about you.’ He says it with so much genuine concern that for a moment it is all Regina can do to not unleash her magic and level the town like a nuclear bomb.

Regina opens her eyes; Robin has aged in the weeks since Marian’s return, the furrows in his brow are deeper, the lines bracketing his mouth have set, silver highlights his sandy hair. It is obvious troubles weigh on him. Regina loves Robin (the song of him is indelibly written on her soul now), but his gentle concern infuriates her - the very same day they made love for the first time; pledged their hearts to each other, he returned to his wife.

How, exactly, does he think she’s doing?

Her ire must be clear, because Robin flinches back but recovers quickly. He was always so very good at seeing though her facades; understanding that for her, pain and bite are directly proportional.

Robin knows her.

The sad truth is that so few have made the effort to do so. So few have seen anything worthy of note in her, that Regina wills the fire that’s rising in her to settle, to not harm the one person who chose to love her unconditionally for all that she is, and says simply, ‘I’m fine.’

‘Regina.’ He implores with such sorrow.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she amends softly.

‘Ah.’ Robin nods sagely and proceeds to shred his coaster into tiny pieces. When the cardboard is finally reduced to confetti Robin says mournfully, ‘I am a treacherous man.’ He takes a sip of his beer, as if he needs the fortitude. ‘Marian is a generous, kind woman, and a wonderful mother…’ he trails off and looks Regina directly in the eyes. ‘But you are my soul mate, if such a thing exists. I feel that more keenly now than ever before. Us together was…completion.’

Regina stomps down brutally on the hope that flares inside her at his words and, because she is trying to be the kind of person Henry would be proud of, says ‘You need to let me go.’

‘And what about you, Milady? Am I so easily purged from your heart?’

‘No,’ she admits.

Robin shakes his head and pulls his seat forward, until their knees brush and his warmth radiates out and envelops her. ‘Though it may render my heart asunder, I cannot regret one moment with you,’ he says fiercely, ‘I cannot help but wish for more.’

It’s too much for Regina. His words touch the broken part inside of her already prodded and bruised from her night with the Charmings. It’s the part of Regina so very desperate for love, but so very certain she does not deserve it. She leans forward and placing her palms against Robin’s chest she rests her forehead against the rough wool of his sweater. Robin shudders at her touch and wraps his arms around her, an unnecessary barrier against curious eyes in the darkness of their corner. His hands run up and down her silk covered back – painting heat against her spine. The gesture is so familiar, so very mourned, that Regina can’t help the broken sob that escapes. Horrified, she pushes away and sits back in her chair. She rubs her hands over her eyes like a young child, no doubt smearing her makeup, ‘I’m sorry.’

Reaching for her glass she gulps the rest of her drink down, savouring the harsh burn. When she looks up Robin is studying her with bright eyes.

They watch each other for long timeless moments, the air between them full of all the things they can no longer say to each other. Finally Robin takes Regina’s hand in his own. Bowing his head he brushes a warm kiss reverently to the back of her hand; he smooths his thumbs over the area his lips touched setting the impression into her skin. The gesture is so full of tenderness and barely repressed passion it takes her breath away.

Placing her hand gently on the table Robin stands and inclines his head.

‘Forgive me, my Queen.’

 

**********

Regina awakes slowly to the feel of warm hands moving across her shoulders, tracing whisper soft patterns down her forearm, disturbing fine hairs. She starts to roll over, but a firm hand stops her.

A warm male body settles firmly behind her, spooning against her. Rough fingers trail along her hand and walk along the dip and curve of her waist, tickling the sharp edge of her bare hip. Regina drags in a tortured breath catching the scent of open air, newly turned earth and wood fire.

Regina feels the press of a nose to her back – the tracing of the ridges of her spine, burying in the hollow where her shoulder meets neck – soft lips pressing gently to the silky skin.

She feels fingers move along the edge of her soft silk sleep shirt, reaching beneath, making their way up. The movement is slow, precise - almost worship - moving back and forth in a gentle caress. A hand settles under her breast but never touches the aching flesh.

Another other hand slipped over her belly, securing her against the body behind her. She relaxes back, feeling the hot press of male arousal against the curve of her lower back.

‘May I touch you?’ The hot words paint the skin of her nape.

Regina nods and the slow, exquisite exploration continues. A hand brushes across her bare belly again, an index finger rubbing along the gentle curve of her waist dipping lower to sample the skin there, the other hand coming to rest fully between her breasts, rubbing gently against her upper chest.

The touch avoids all the places where she burns and aches - it is familiar and bold, but respectful, as the texture and warmth of her body is tested.

She begins to burn for touch in those forbidden places.

The rub of skin, flush against hers.

The friction of a finger as it circles the apex of her thighs.

Lips against hers, urging hers to open.

Regina mummers restlessly, and the rough sandpaper of a stubbled cheek scraps against her cheek and neck, adding deliciously to her growing need. Her concentration on the burn of stubble meant she can’t suppress a groan of arousal when, without warning, a hand gently but surely cups a breast and captures the hard nipple between thumb and forefinger massaging firmly. Confidently.

The intense heat of desire fills her and she gasps in pleasure.

‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’ The voice is quite, rough, as confident as the touch. ‘Do you want to know what you do to me?’

A mouth is hot against her skin, seducing her as much as the words, and Regina exhales a self-conscious laugh.

‘You are strength and grace and passion. You leave me breathless. Since the moment I first saw you I wanted to touch you, to feel you move under my hands… Stunning’

The voice trails off for a moment, and she deliberately grinds her hips against the hardness resting against the small of her back.

Her hip are stilled with a bruising hand, ‘I can’t sleep at night for wondering what you taste like. The sounds you make as I take you. You feel it too. I know you do.’

‘I think about it,’ Regina admits, placing a hand over the one at her hip, lacing fingers together, hands as one, rising and falling together with each laboured breath she takes.

She moves their hands, tangled up as they are and presses them to her breast, teasing the hard nipple, rubbing the skin up and down catching it on the edge of fingernails, sending spikes of dark desire through her.

Dual fingers tug at the painfully sensitive nub, rolling it. As the hands massage and tease first one breast and then the next, kisses rain along the cut of her jaw, across her neck and along her shoulder.

Slowly, her hand is dragged down slowly, down, down, down until it is resting on her upper thigh.

Regina nods and nods as her fingers are wrapped around warm calloused ones. A leg nudges between her own, opening her up, exposing her. She guides the fingers across her belly and soft silky skin until they reach the slick pebbled flesh at the source of her desire. …fingers delve deeper, circling the sensitive flesh, ticking and soothing but never touching where she needs.

She gasps and throws her head back, as two fingers finally slip into her, curling deep within.

‘Stunning in every way,’ a warm voice says approvingly.

Regina wakes panting, aching, wanting.

Slipping her hand under the waist of her silk boxers she works at her clit, massaging the sensitive flesh as she tries to recall the images from her dream. The touch of her lover, the timber of his voice as he encouraged her… Robin.

Regina feels her body tighten and quiver and suddenly release crashes over her in single all consuming wave. Regina bursts into tears. The dream – memory – and the climax shaking feel the torrent of feelings she has been holding at bay.

She sobs into her pillow mourning lost chances and regretting bad decisions, and grieving for a fate she never had.

Finally she allows herself to cry for the young girl who was taught power was the most valuable currency, and the broken woman who believed that fear was a worthy substitute for love.

*******************

 Whispers and loaded silence follow Regina.

Since she hasn’t resurrected the stockades or increased town levies, she can only assume her love life is the subject of speculation. She thinks of Roland and Robin and the supposition swirling on the cold town air like bitter snowflakes. Robin is intensely private and discrete; knowing that his troubles are the talk of the town would be fuelling the no small amount of self-hate he obviously feels.

I am a treacherous man, Robin had whispered to her that night in the bar, the words all but ripped from him.

Regina knows this is not true. Robin is the very best of men; honourable, loyal and capable of boundless love. Whatever protestations he may make about keeping her close in his heart, it is is now a house divided and it will be his downfall.

Robin has made his choice – he intends to stay with Marian. Memories of their time together, of what could have been, what was almost in their reach, if held close will rot him from the inside out.

And she loves Robin much better than that. Wants more for him.

It isn’t until she finds herself in front of her apple tree with fruit, red and perfect waiting to be picked, that the idea fully forms in her mind.

It’s an elegant solution. The spell is precise - a surgical incision that removes all memories of lost love. Memories of touch, of happiness, of love, of completion, will no longer torment either of them. Robin can have the life he should have lived all along, and Regina… She supposes that she’ll have the same.

It’ll be like they never met.

The only thing that can break the curse is true love’s kiss, but with Marian returned and the latest evil defeated, she and Robin will have no reason to cross paths. Even if Marian weren’t returned, if it weren’t for the second curse and her sister’s wicked plan they would have never met and fell in love.

For all the joy that Robin brought into her life, she can admit that losing him has been nothing but pain. And Regina has had her fill of pain, has had her fill of the cold, empty space in her bed where Robin should be, and the knowledge that she is always chosen last by the people she loves the best (by the person the fates chose for her).

Memories for oblivion. It’s a fair trade, and one she’s willing to make. One she’s willing to make for Robin, if it means he’ll be happy and content again.

Resolved, Regina picks two apples, shiny and plump, from her tree.

She carries the apples with her for two days, before, on the third morning, she makes her way into the woods. She knows his haunts, the places he goes when he wants to be alone. She knows with a certainty born of magic and destiny that he’ll find her eventually.

After hiking for an hour Regina finds a moss covered rock protected by a small copse of trees, and settles into wait.

The winter afternoon is cold and bitter and chills Regina to the bone. The morning warmth is a distance memory when she finally hears a rustle of leaves. Robin emerges out of the forest like a vision. His bow sung over one shoulder, quiver attached to his back, hair swept back from a day of tracking. If she allowed herself a memory, it might just be this one. One that captures the very essence of the man she loves.

‘I wondered if you’d find me here,’ she says.

‘Your scent is quite distinct, you know. I could smell you from a mile away.’

‘I’m not sure if I should be offended.’ She scoffs.

Robin lifts his bow over his head and places carefully on the ground. He follows it with his quivery and a hessian bag at his hip, which she can only assume is the game he managed capture. From a pocket he pulls out a drink bottle that he offers to her, at the shake of her head he takes a deep drink.

‘Long day,’ she asks, taking in his almost ragged appearance. He is covered with leaves and bits of forest. Mud streaks his forehead.

Robin puts the flask in in his hip pocket and sits on a rock across from her with a small shrug. He holds her gaze for a long moment and Regina can easily discern the conflict and self-reproach settled just below his clam exterior.

Finally he says, ‘The forest gives me some perspective. When I became a widower, I often roamed the woods with Roland. It helped to clear my mind. Focused me on what was important and taught me be grateful for the blessing I had.’

Regina nods in understanding. ‘When I was a young woman I used to do something similar. I’d escape the castle on my horse and ride until my mind cleared and the turmoil in my heart stilled. It was the only way I could stay sane.’

‘Are you riding much these days,’ Robin asks.

To anyone else she expects it would seem a loaded question, but she knows Robin doesn’t practice subterfuge. If he wanted to ask how she was coping, he’d ask.

‘Not so much,’ she smiles, ‘my sister managed to destroy half the town during her rampage. I’ve been too busy cleaning up that mess to find the time. Plus, it’s not really riding weather.’

‘Did you end up burying Zelena’s ashes?’

‘Down by the river, near the large oak. I thought she’d rather be by herself, in the forest, rather than in the cemetery or in the family tomb.’

Robin looks out into the distance. ‘You didn’t tell anyone did you?’

Regina’s heart tightens a little at his concern, but shrugs, ‘She may have been intent of destroying us all, but she was my sister. She deserved better than to be dumped into the nearest dustbin.’

‘I would have come with you. You didn’t have to be alone.’

Regina feels tears burn the back of her eyes. It’s a truth she guards fiercely but having lived a life without kindness, as she has, it is often the smallest offering of humanity that breaks her. No on else in town had offered to help her bury her sister. Of course, Snow, Charming, Emma – hell, half the town - they’d all been aware that Zelena’s mortal remains were piled in the corner of remand cell A. She supposes that no one really gave a thought to the fact that she was Regina’s sister beyond what that meant for them.

Regina pulls the apples out of her satchel and offers him one. He takes it with a nod of thanks, and she watches as he takes a large bite. ‘Is this one of yours,’ he asks as he takes another bite.

She nods.

‘Delicious.’

She nods again, slowly. Watching as he finishes. When there is nothing left but the core, she takes a bite out of her own. The flesh is juicy and sweet, with just enough tart to be fresh. When she’s finished her bite (one is enough for her purposes) she places the apple by her side.

‘You know thief, you’re the only person who has ever loved every part of me.’ Regina says, looking out into the depth of the forest, ‘Who ever believed in me and stood by me by your own choice. Thank you.’ She bites her quivering lip, because she doesn’t want their last moments be coloured with sadness or pity. So instead of talking she leans in and kisses him, gentle and slow. It’s chaste and sweet and tastes like goodbye.

‘You don’t have to thank me. Loving you is not a hardship,’ he says softly, pulling back, eyes unfocused, contentment playing on his lips.

‘Liar,' she says fondly. Regina looks down at the apple core by his side. ‘And I do.’

Robin stills as realisation washes over him. ‘Regina, what have you done?’

She stands and gathers her things, packing them into her bag. When she’s finished she says, ‘I’m giving you your life back – a happy marriage, a family. Your heart.’

‘What are you talking about,’ he demands.

‘When the sun rises tomorrow morning all your memories of me will be washed away. It’ll be like I never existed. Or at least like I didn’t destroy your happiness.’

‘Undo it.’ He begs, pleads. Grasping her arm tightly he pulls her into him. ‘Undo it, Regina. I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget you.’

Regina shakes her head. ‘You’re suffering because of my selfishness. I’m not worth it. The memory of me is not worth it.’

Robin leans into her running his forehead against her like a cat scenting its master, chants over and over, ‘Don’t do this, don’t do this. Please don’t. I want to remember.’ He holds her close, as if he can imprint her on him by sheer force. ‘Undo this Regina.’

‘I can’t.’ She holds up her own apple, a dainty bite deep in the pale flesh. ‘I won’t remember either.’


End file.
